


Driving Home for Christmas

by MissGryffindor



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGryffindor/pseuds/MissGryffindor
Summary: When Jon Snow announces his intention to drive home for Christmas, his best friend Robb Stark suggests taking a passenger along – Robb’s sister, Sansa.  Robb has no ulterior motives in making this request.  None.  Really, not a single one.  Honest.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Robb Stark/Jeyne Westerling
Comments: 14
Kudos: 227





	Driving Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This had been sitting half-finished on my laptop for over a year, and I finally got round to completing it! 
> 
> Happy holidays to all - enjoy!

As he sat outside Sansa’s neat, centuries-old apartment building on the outskirts of King’s Landing, Jon wondered for the seventeenth time that hour just what he was doing here. Firstly, he had allowed Robb to talk him into coming home to Wintertown for Christmas. Then, he had allowed Robb to talk him into driving Sansa home with him. 

Jon had hoped that announcing his intention to drive the thousand miles or so would have put Robb off asking him to travel with Sansa – after all, who would want their sister making the journey home up the Kingsroad, a highway infamous for accidents and tailbacks at the best of times – but he had insisted that Sansa would be fine with it. As it seemed Robb was himself. 

What was he doing here? Eighteen. _Waiting for Sansa_ , he reminded himself. That was the rub, though, wasn’t it? In some ways, Jon felt like he’d been waiting for Sansa Stark for a very long time. He wasn’t quite sure when it happened……probably one summer they were both home from college…..but she wasn’t _Robb’s little sister_ to him anymore. She had simply become _Sansa_. A woman in her own right. One he found smart and funny and interesting and had spent hours discussing ideas and theories with while Robb and Jeyne tried to find privacy in a crowded house. 

The wedding had been the killer, though. They’d both been in the wedding party, of course. Jon had been best man – a particular honour given Robb had two brothers – and Sansa one of Jeyne’s many bridesmaids. There had been lunches and barbeques and nights out in the weeks leading up to the wedding. And, at all of them, Jon and Sansa had just seemed to gravitate towards one another. 

What Sansa had not mentioned on those occasions, however, was the couple of dates she’d had with Harry Hardyng before summer – and those she’d planned for them on her return to King’s Landing for the commencement of her post-grad studies. Jon had found out about them from Jeyne’s sister Eleyna, who knew Harry from undergrad in the Vale, at Gulltown. 

Sansa had looked squirmy and Jon had covered everything by panicking and saying how great it was – casually mentioning the not-so-blind date his father kept on hinting at with Monford Velaryon’s daughter. 

Jon had no intention of taking up the offer, but he had seen the gleam in Eleyna’s eye and known afterwards that she was trying to stir up trouble. To create drama where none existed. He and Sansa had parted on good terms, he hoped. But they had hardly spoken since. That had been a little under eighteen months ago. Jon had skipped out on Christmas in Wintertown last year, finally giving in to Rhaegar’s suggestion that a visit to Meereen and Daenerys might be a good way to celebrate the holidays. 

He looked her up on Facebook or Instagram from time to time, though he’d had no opportunity to do so of late. Rhaegar had been running him ragged at work. But when he’d had time before, he would peruse the pictures she’d posted of herself around the city, taking in the sights and sounds of King’s Landing. Harry appeared in them occasionally, but Jon tended to skip over those. 

A short bleep sounded on his phone and Jon looked down to see a message flash across the screen, bearing Sansa’s name. 

_I’ll be down in a moment._

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Jon looked up to see a beautiful Sansa bounding down the steps at the front of her building, a wide smile beaming across her face. 

_What was he doing here?_

-

Sansa gulped as she stared down at the text message she’d just received from Jon. _That’s me downstairs. Take your time._ Take her _time_. Sansa felt sometimes like she’d done nothing but that as far as Jon Snow was concerned. 

She fidgeted with the ties on her cases and made a seventh run-through of the apartment to make sure all the electricals were switched off. In truth, she’d been up and ready since dawn, trying to fill her time until Jon’s arrival. They had agreed upon noon as a good time to get started. Avoid the early crowds and the rush-hour traffic but still get a good driving stint in. 

Sansa had been all set to book her airline ticket when Robb told her that Jon was driving home and she should take advantage of the opportunity that afforded her. After all, if she planned to move back to Wintertown after graduation in the summer (something she’d admitted to in a drunken video call earlier that week) then it would allow her to see more of the South beforehand. All she’d really seen was King’s Landing and the surrounding area. 

Damn Robb. 

_You and Jon always got on so well when we were home from college for the summer. And when Jeyne and I got married. You both seemed to be like old friends. To be honest, it always surprised me that you didn’t meet up for coffee or whatever in King’s Landing. Rhaegar works him too hard. He needs a break. And you need a good reminder of home once in a while, right? It’ll be a great road trip – you can both get caught up with one another._

Damn Robb. 

She couldn’t really say _no_ without saying _why_. And what could she say – that she and Jon had barely even spoken since his wedding, and when they had it had been because Robb was essentially using her as a postal service to send things to Jon? Did Robb even realise that?! That she’d felt that summer, in the weeks leading up to Robb’s wedding, as if she and Jon were possibly, maybe, edging towards something that might be a little more than friendship? That she felt a connection to him….one absent in every relationship she’d had?

Sansa had stalked his barely-used Facebook account – one she suspected he persevered with simply in an attempt to keep up with some of his friends from back home – in the months following Robb’s wedding and found no evidence of a relationship with this Velaryon girl he’d mentioned so casually after Eleyna had been stupid enough to bring Harry’s name into the conversation. 

She’d missed Jon so much over the last eighteen-ish months. King’s Landing was lonely, even before her overdue split from Harry, and Sansa had thought so many times of swallowing her pride and picking up her phone to text, call or e-mail Jon. Hell, even to wave at him on Facebook. Once she’d worked up the courage to add him as a friend, of course.

Those weeks before the wedding had been a whirlwind and all Sansa could remember of it was _Jon_. Jon laughing at the silly jokes she told over cocktails with the wedding party. Jon holding her bag for her while she tried on dress after dress for the rehearsal dinner after they’d escaped lunch at Winterfell with Mr. and Mrs. Westerling. Jon handing her his jacket to shield herself with when they were caught in an unexpected rainstorm.

They’d become closer before that. More like friends than acquaintances. But it was that summer Sansa thought of as her _Jon Snow awakening_. The summer when she’d realised that there had been a good, kind, brave man right in front of her all along. A sweet, funny and handsome man who treated her like a person and not a piece of skirt. 

How was she to spend the next few days in that car with him, alone, without blurting out that she believed herself to be a little bit in love with him?

_What was she doing?_

Damn Robb.

Sansa pulled on her jacket and picked up both of the suitcases she intended to take with her. There were things she knew she wouldn’t need, clothes she wouldn’t wear, over the next six or so months that could be returned home before she moved back the week after her graduation when the lease for her apartment expired. 

She locked up, pocketing her keys, and walked down the single flight of stairs to the front entrance. Forcing a smile on her face, Sansa went through the door and looked for Jon’s car. She saw him parked right outside, like he said he’d be, waiting for her. His hair had grown since the last picture she’d seen of him and the beard had got slightly thicker. Sansa wondered how it would feel between her thighs. And those sinfully, delicious looking lips…….

It hit Sansa in that moment just how seriously fucked she was. 

Damn Robb.

-

Jon coughed as he got out of the car and stumbled onto the kerb. Sansa was just as beautiful as he recalled – perhaps more so – and he was just the bumbling idiot who was desperately trying to figure out how many times over the next few days he’d be forced to repress the urge to tell Sansa that, actually, he was pretty sure he was in love with her. 

Sansa, who was in love with someone _else_. 

Sansa, who was happy with _Harry_. 

Jon would need to keep telling himself that. 

He reached out and took Sansa’s suitcases from her. “I’ll put these in the back seat. I, uh, I pretty much loaded the trunk with Christmas presents. Been so long since I was back home for any length of time and after going to Meereen last year……thought I should take something…..Good to see you again.” Jon wanted to hug Sansa, but he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. Tightly? Quick in and pull back? In the end, he simply rearranged his features into what he hoped was a smile rather than a grimace. 

“Good to see you”, Sansa replied. Jon watched as she fidgeted, tapping her long, nimble gloved fingers against her bag. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. We, uh, we should maybe get going?”

Jon nodded. She hadn’t held him up. Not really. But she was obviously keen to get moving now. Jon wondered how long it had been since she’d seen her family. He knew how close the Starks were, especially Robb and Sansa. Holding the car door open for her, Jon picked up a whiff of vanilla from Sansa’s scent. This was going to be a long, long trip. 

-

An hour outside King’s Landing, however, Jon started to feel a little bit more hopeful that things wouldn’t be awful. Wanting to postpone the inevitable conversation about Harry as long as possible, he’d asked Sansa about her dissertation and then her plans to study for her doctorate at Wintertown U. _Northern Fairtytales and Folklore_ was more her area of interest than his, but if Jon was honest, he could listen to Sansa recite the phone directory and find it fascinating. 

“It’ll be good to be home”, Sansa sighed. Jon could hear the contentment in her voice. It reminded him of the peace he’d felt a little more than a fortnight ago when Rhaegar had finally agreed to have him set up and run a new branch of their legal firm in Wintertown. 

It wouldn’t take more than a couple of months to find an office and recruit a small staff to start out with. Jon had already made tentative plans with his law school friend, Sam Tarly. Jon knew Sam – who’d been mentored at White Harbour Law by Jon’s great-uncle Aemon – was keen to move his family back to the North. 

“I know what you mean. There’s nothing quite like that cold snap in the air……the first of the winter roses coming into bloom…….the nights starting to become longer but still not too long”, said Jon wistfully. Going south after White Harbour had been worth it to build a relationship with Rhaegar and the rest of that side of his family, but neither King’s Landing nor Dragonstone had ever felt like home in the way anywhere in the North had. 

Jon bit his lip and addressed the elephant in the car. “How – how does Harry feel about moving to Wintertown? Will it be easy for him to get a transfer, or find another job?”

It hit Jon that while Sansa had been dating the man for almost eighteen months, he had absolutely no idea what Harry Hardyng actually did for a living. 

Sansa ducked her head slightly and Jon wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. Perhaps Harry wasn’t so happy about the move?

“Did Robb not tell you? Harry and I broke up around four weeks ago."

“No. No…..he didn’t.” Why in seven hells hadn’t Robb mentioned it?! A quick heads up – _Sansa’s just broken up with her boyfriend_ – would have been a bit helpful. He may have secured Jon’s chauffeuring services before then, but a quick text. _Sansa now single._ Three words. How hard would it have been? “Sansa, I – “

“Don’t worry about it, Jon. You weren’t to know.” But their conversation came to a halt, and Sansa spent the rest of the time until their late lunch stop at Rosby gazing out of the window. 

-

Damn Robb. Why couldn’t he have spared her the humiliation of having to explain the end of her relationship with Harry? Sansa knew she was better off without him, and that she had never really seen Harry moving back to Wintertown with her, but no sane woman _wanted_ to admit that her boyfriend had cheated on her. Nor did Sansa want to have to admit how stupid she had been about Harry. 

“How about here?” Jon asked. He pointed at a small, quaint café just off the end of the high street. 

“Looks good”, Sansa replied, forcing a smile. “We just want something small and quick anyway.”

Jon parked up quickly and ran round to open the door for Sansa before she could gather her things together. Why did he have to be such a gentleman? More than once over the last few weeks, Sansa had wondered if she’d gone on that third date with Harry after returning from Robb’s wedding because he was the antithesis of Jon. More than once over the last few weeks, Sansa had wondered if she’d persisted with a relationship with Harry to help her forget Jon. 

She still didn’t have an answer on that score, and so focused herself on the café. It was pretty – painted yellow on the outside with a white trim – and had a sloping cover that sheltered a handful of tables. Sansa thought it must be a nice place to come visit for afternoon tea in the summer, and sit to watch the world go by. 

He ushered her inside and led the way to a table in the corner, next to a small stove burner. Sansa grinned. Not that far beyond King’s Landing and they were treating the winter cold as if it were as perishing as Wintertown and the rest of the North could be in the depths of winter. She picked up the menu and considered it briefly, while a smiling older woman came over to greet them. 

“Afternoon, stopped off for a bite of lunch have we?”

“Yes”, Sansa replied. “A quick bite, though. We hope to make it quite a bit further before dinner. I’ll have a pot of tea and a baked potato with salad. Jon?”

“The same.” The woman left them, and Jon turned to see her walk away. “I’m sorry – about earlier, I mean – Robb didn’t tell me. I – “

“Don’t worry about it. You never met Harry, and if you had then I doubt you’d have gotten along”, Sansa told him. “I’m not sure how I stood it for so long. In the end, it was for the best. And you? There’s not a special woman in your life?”

Jon got a queer look on his face for a moment, then simply shrugged. “I’ve not been seeing anyone for a while.”

“Miss Velaryon didn’t get her claws into you, then?”

Jon chuckled at that. “She got married recently. To a cousin of Ardrian Celtigar’s. I can’t remember the name. Rhaegar told me when the invitation came through.”

“Oh. How nice.” Sansa forced down the fuzzy feeling that had inspired in her. Just because he wasn’t currently dating didn’t mean he would automatically be open to a relationship with _her_. Even if he did it would ultimately encounter the same problem she’d anticipated with Harry – come the summer, they would be living at opposite ends of Westeros. 

Her father had offered Jon a job, the same as Robb, after graduation, but he’d moved down to King’s Landing to try and forge a relationship with his birth father. After Lyanna’s death, Sansa had seen a more sober side to Jon. More serious and mature. And, as close to her own family as she was, Sansa understood his need to bond with the little family he had left. 

“Is there anywhere you’d like to stop off and play the tourist?” Jon asked her. He thanked the serving woman for their tea and began to pour it. “Not just this afternoon, but in general? We still have five days before Christmas Eve. There’s time to stop off somewhere for a couple of hours.”

Sansa felt her insides flip a little. She recalled the weekend she’d gone alone to tour the ruins of the old Sept of Baelor and some of the museums nearby, because Harry said there was _no point in playing the tourist in your own backyard_.

“That sounds great – maybe……maybe Maidenpool? I used to love the stories of Florian and Jonquil when I was little, and there’s a museum there dedicated to the writer and her work. And you? Is there anywhere you would like to see?”

“Places? No. I would, if we have time, like to call on Howland Reed when we pass through the Neck. It isn’t that far off the road from Moat Cailin to Greywater, and he was always a good friend to my mother.”

“We’ll have time”, Sansa promised him. She also reminded Jon that Howland had been a good friend to her own father, and that his daughter would likely one day become her sister. Jon chuckled at that and confided his belief that Arya would be the next Stark to make it down the aisle. 

“Arya? By all the gods”, Sansa scoffed. 

“Oh, Gendry will let her get away with as small a ceremony as possible when the time comes, but I don’t think it’ll be too far off. Arya told me the other night that they’re planning on moving in together at the end of the semester.” That was news to Sansa, but then she and Arya had never been close. Sansa hoped that when she moved home, they might remedy that. The two of them rowed far less than they had as children.

“Here’s our lunch coming”, said Sansa. 

-

They arrived at Duskendale early in the evening. Although he’d had to bite his tongue more times than he could easily recall, Jon felt that the drive thus far had at least not been as awkward as he had anticipated – the brief period before lunch aside – and he’d been forced to, begrudgingly, admit to himself that it was perhaps more enjoyable making this journey with someone else. 

Their adjoining rooms were ready and waiting for them, and all there was to do was freshen themselves up and reconvene downstairs in the hotel restaurant for dinner. 

Waiting in the bar area, Jon ordered himself a scotch and found a table next to the window. Night had fallen and the driveway was prettily lit up with lamps of differing colours. It was, Jon thought, the sort of thing Sansa would enjoy looking out at.

His phone started to vibrate in his pocket, and Jon pulled it out to see the name _Robb_ flash across his screen. “Hey, how’s the trip going?”

“Well, we made it to Duskendale in one piece”, Jon told him. He glanced over to the door, checking to see that Sansa wasn’t in earshot. “You could’ve told me that she’d split up with Harry, though. I looked like a right arse asking how he was!”

“Yeah, I did forget to mention that.” Jon furrowed his brows. He didn’t like Robb’s cagey tone. Was there something in this separation he wasn’t supposed to know about? “Ah well, I’m sure everything will work out fine. Sansa’s moving home in the summer, did I remember to tell you that?”

“You did”, Jon nodded. “And she told me herself. You get both of us back next year.”

“So I do. Anyway, I hope everything works out on the trip tomorrow. How far do you think you’ll get?”

“I’m hoping Maidenpool.” Jon had booked a hotel there while Sansa had been in the bathroom at the café where they’d had lunch. He’d done his sums and checked out the website for the Florian and Jonquil museum. If they got an early enough start and picked up a deli sandwich for lunch, they could make Maidenpool by the middle of the afternoon, before the last tour started at the museum. 

“Well, let me know how you get on. We’re all looking forward to Christmas here. Rickon’s been stockpiling chocolate for the best part of two months and spent today searching for hidden presents. It’ll be good for you to spend a holiday at home.”

_Unlike last Christmas_ was the unspoken conclusion to that. While Robb had understood Jon’s wish to spend the festive season visiting Daenerys, he had not understood his wish to spend the festive season in the humidity of Meereen. Robb Stark was a Northerner through and through.

Jon grinned. “Speak soon. Say _hi_ to Jeyne.”

He closed the call and turned to see Sansa, radiant in a fresh pair of jeans and a knitted white jumper that sat so temptingly off her right shoulder, waving over at him. This was going to be a very long dinner. And an even longer trip.

When the waiter sat them down at their table and handed them the food and drink menus, chirping away about the specials, all Jon could think was how inviting Sansa’s semi-bare right shoulder was. He wanted to nip and kiss and lick away at it all night long. Unfortunately for Jon, however, Sansa was not on the menu for tonight. 

-

By the time they reached Maidenpool in the midst of a foggy afternoon, Sansa had decided that this trip was both the worst and best thing she’d been talked into in a _very_ long time. Between dinner, a nightcap and breakfast, and in the car from Duskendale, she and Jon had fallen back into the same easy chatter they’d had in the past. The time they were spending together was fantastic, but it was also making Sansa realise what an amazing man she’d let slip through her fingers in Jon Snow. 

Jon carried her luggage, held doors open for her and poured her wine at dinner. He listened to her ramble on about literary theory and discussed books they’d both read. He was insistent about doing all the driving himself and allowing her to relax (even though Sansa knew full well from their talk at dinner that he’d been working excessively long hours recently)……..

……..and Sansa constantly had a voice in her head, nagging away, saying that there must have been some reason why it hadn’t worked out for them before. Jon had never sought out her friendship away from Wintertown and perhaps that was the most telling thing of all.

And, to make it all a thousand times more confusing for her, Jon had announced at dinner his intention to move home to Wintertown. Something Robb had been as negligent in mentioning to her as he had been in telling Jon about Harry. 

Damn Robb. 

Her brother currently had a lot to answer for. 

“Do you want to go straight to the museum, or check into the hotel first?” Jon asked, cutting into Sansa’s thoughts. She gazed at him for a moment, mouth slightly open, before correcting herself and trying to speak like a normal human. 

“Museum, if that’s alright. I’m not sure how long the tour is, so it’ll give us as much time as possible. And they’ll be on winter opening hours.”

“I’m going to put our trip to the museum in your capable hands.” Sansa nodded. She wasn’t used to this, to someone putting her wants and needs first. Sansa tried to check herself, to remember that this wasn’t a relationship, merely two people who had known each other for a very long time travelling home together, but she fell a little short of success. 

She wondered yet again what it would be like to be with Jon. To have him take her hand as they walked down the street. To have him take her home at night. To spend lazy weekends in bed with him. 

“Here we are, then”, said Jon. Sansa blinked and began to pay attention to where they were. Jon had parked just outside the Florian and Jonquil museum. It was a small, stone-build structure that sat amid what looked to be a good few acres of green parkland. Or, at least, what was _normally_ green parkland. The light snow and frost had become more pronounced the further away from King’s Landing they got and so the ground was varying shades of white and silver. 

Sansa carefully steadied herself when she stepped out of the car. The gravel seemed solid and she didn’t want to slip. So, when Jon offered her his arm, Sansa took it without thinking too much about what it meant. And how loudly her heart was pounding at Jon’s proximity. 

“We should have ten or fifteen minutes until the next tour”, Jon murmured. “They start on the hour.”

“Thank you, Jon. Thank you for agreeing to stop here and thank you for getting us here on time, in one piece.”

He chuckled lightly. “Yeah, there were a few bits of road that could’ve done with being better gritted. Luckily, however, I’m from the North. I learned to drive in winter.”

“My father says all Northerners should. That it is the best way of determining whether or not someone is a good driver.”

“Yeah, he told me and Robb that when we started our lessons.” Jon scratched his beard at the memory and Sansa thought once again how much better employed said beard would be scratching her thighs. She hoped Jon took the whimper that escaped her as fear of slipping on an icy patch and falling. 

-

“Tell me about your plans to move back to Wintertown”, said Sansa. She sat opposite him in the little alcove the waiter had given them in the hotel dining room, as they waited on their final course. Jon was entranced by the way the tip of Sansa’s index finger swirled around the rim of her wine glass. 

They’d chosen red tonight. Or rather, Jon had blurted out his desire for red while staring – hopefully not in an obvious way – at Sansa. Jon took a small sip of his wine now. He couldn’t drink too much of it – they aimed to get an early start in the morning and try to make it as far as the Crossroads Inn before dark. 

“There isn’t much to tell”, Jon shrugged. “I wanted to move home and Rhaegar suggested setting up a new branch of the firm in Wintertown. My WH Law buddy, Sam, wants to move back to the North. His wife is a Northwoman – a true Northwoman, from the lands once beyond the old ice wall – and they miss it. They’ve been living in Oldtown for the past couple of years and I know Gilly hasn’t really settled. He’s my first recruit.”

“ _Home_. Wintertown is _home_ to you.”

“Of course it is. Isn’t it to you?” He lowered his head a little and then raised it again to meet Sansa’s eyes. “After my mother died, I felt the need to get to know Rhaegar. I’ve done that. King’s Landing was always temporary.”

It had been a place for Jon to heal away from old wounds. 

“As it was for me”, Sansa murmured. “Maybe Harry knew that. I don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He saw her bite her lip and then make a face. Jon didn’t know what that meant. Was it time to change the subject? He was about to ask what she’d bought some random member of the family for Christmas when Sansa spoke. 

“There was another woman. I was out with a friend from my course, celebrating the end of a paper that half-killed me, and there he was. At the other end of the bar with his hand halfway up her skirt.” Sansa gave a derisory chuckle. “He didn’t even deny it, either. He even mentioned something about the _others_. Harry thought I knew about them, but I didn’t.”

“Sansa……I…….” If he’d had even the small inkling that Sansa had suffered such mortification he would _never_ have brought it up. Jon took her hand in his. “Harry is an idiot. Any man who does that to you is an idiot. Any man who could think another woman is worth even a second of his time when he has you…….”

“You’re very sweet, Jon. But Harry gave me a very long list of things – “

“Harry is an idiot”, Jon repeated. Jon covered her hand with his other one. “How could anyone not want you – “

“Two white chocolate and raspberry cheesecakes with ice cream”, the waiter announced. Jon pulled his hands back and gulped. He’d come so close there to spelling out to Sansa just how he felt about her. So, so close. How could he do that only four weeks after her split with Harry?! And given the circumstances, she’d probably be healing for a while. 

“This is good cheesecake”, said Sansa after the first bite. Jon took the compliment as Sansa likely intended it – a way for them to move back to safer ground – and commented that they should probably call it a night soon so they can get started early. 

Perhaps in the summer, once Sansa’s had a chance to decompress, perhaps then he might take a chance on spending more time with her. But now must be too soon for Sansa. 

-

As they approached the Crossroads Inn, Sansa felt a little relieved they’d finally reached their destination. Perhaps pleading a headache and ordering room service was the way to go? The air in the car had been taut, as tight as a livewire, all day long. 

If Sansa was honest, she’d put it down to their dinner in Maidenpool. If only that blasted waiter hadn’t turned up with their cheesecake at that moment. She’d felt like she and Jon were getting somewhere back to the comfort and easy camaraderie they’d had in the days before Robb’s wedding and then when Jon had been interrupted like that…….

Sansa fidgeted again, rubbing her legs together at the thought of what Jon could’ve been about to say. 

Today, however, had been a different matter. _Today_ , Sansa had been treated to inane comments about the Riverlands and how different the country there was to the North. Damn Robb. This had been a bad idea from the start. A VERY bad idea. 

But then, as he parked up, Jon turned and smiled at her and _gods_ , but Sansa knew she wanted to keep seeing that smile. She wanted that smile forever. 

Screw room service. 

Jon took their luggage to the front desk as always and checked them in, booking a table for dinner at the same time. It wasn’t until she got to her room, alone, that Sansa heaved a huge sigh and then called the person directly responsible for this trip – Robb. 

“I told Jon about Harry and that woman”, she told her brother without any preamble. Sansa didn’t even let him breathe a word. She _really_ hoped he wasn’t sharing any of their conversations with Jon Snow. “That she wasn’t the only one.”

“I didn’t think you wanted people to know. You only told me – and Arya, I guess.”

“I didn’t”, Sansa admitted. She ran her fingers through her hair. “But its _Jon_ …….and he was there, being all sympathetic and asking if I wanted to talk.”

“Arya says you’ve always had a bit of a thing for Jon. Maybe that’s where the verbal diarrhoea came from?” Sansa winced. She thought she’d kept that to herself. She thought no one had ever figured it out. And now not only had Arya figured it out, but it seemed like she’d also shared her thoughts with _Robb_. This was NOT good.

“Arya needs to learn to filter.”

“Arya sees things most of us don’t. And I’m not hearing you deny it.”

“What’s the point? You wouldn’t believe me.” _Also, it_ is _true_. “I should go. I have a dinner reservation to get ready for.”

“Call me tomorrow night. How far are you hoping to get?”

“As close to Moat Cailin as possible. The traffic should be better, so we might make it. It’ll be a long day. Speak to you later.”

“Night. Love you, sis.”

Damn Robb. 

Sansa was completely and utterly screwed. She pulled out a change of clothes and decided to take a shower. Perhaps in there she could work out some of the pent up feelings she’d spent the day repressing, because Jon Snow wasn’t going to help her with that tonight. 

-

“So not only did you neglect to tell me that Sansa and Harry had split up, you also left out the part where the moron cheated on her. Why? Why would someone do that? Sansa’s…….why would you go after someone else?”

Jon was feeling pretty wound up. He’d spent the entire day driving and trying not to think about Sansa. The inane chatter that had come out of his mouth……Jon couldn’t even think of what he’d said. It was all babble. Babble to stop him saying _Harry had the most precious thing in the world in you and if he couldn’t see that then he’s even more of a moron than I thought before, oh and by the way when you’re over him I would really like to go down on you for an hour or two and then you know, spend the rest of my life with you_.

“She only told me and Arya. I haven’t even mentioned it to Jeyne, to be honest. Well, I did imply that Harry was – well, moron sounds about right.”

“I just don’t get it.”

“That’s because you’re in love with Sansa. It completely blinds you.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jon’s heart began to thud. Never had he told a _single living soul_ about his feelings for Sansa.

“You. Are. In. Love. With. Sansa.” Robb said it slowly and with a tone of smugness Jon wanted to shove out of his best friend. “What, you think I didn’t know? Jeyne might have had me wedding planning, but I knew what you were up to. I saw the way you looked at her…….it’s the same as the way I look at Jeyne. You always ask after her and I don’t think you realize how much you do it. Or that she’s the first person you ask after.”

_Damn Robb_. 

Jon’s brain was fried. He didn’t know what to say. What could you say to that.

“That’s not the point.”

“Sorry, bud. But I think it kind of is.”

“I have to go. I have a dinner reservation.” _And I need a shower to take the edge off first – not a cold one, though. I need to release my frustrations, not make them worse_. 

“Call me tomorrow night. Have fun and make good choices.”

Jon grabbed a change of clothes and went to turn on the shower. He was so completely fucked. _Robb knew he liked Sansa?_

-

“At least we can still keep the rooms”, Sansa shrugged. Overnight, the snow had fallen thick and fast and they’d woken up to the realization that the roads wouldn’t be clear for a while. Then Robb, her bloody interfering brother, had texted Jon to say that it really wasn’t safe for them to be driving anywhere – and her father agreed with him. 

_That_ had put an end to any suggestion they might get some driving done. What in all seven hells was she supposed to do all day with Jon Snow? Other than stop herself blurting out what she _actually_ wanted to spend the day doing with him.

“I’m sorry. I know this means we won’t have enough time to stop at Howland’s.” She ran her hand up and down Jon’s arm and then gave it a comforting squeeze. Gods, but she loved Jon’s arms. 

“I’ll be able to see more of him when I move home. What are you – what should we do? I mean, I brought my laptop. We could……watch some Christmas movies on Netflix maybe?”

Sansa gulped. Jon was effectively asking her to Netflix and chill with him? Sansa wasn’t entirely sure Jon would know what that term meant, but still. 

“That would work”, Sansa nodded. She followed Jon upstairs to his first floor room, not quite sure what to expect. Her mind hopefully drifted back to the night before last when he seemed to be about to say something until they were rudely interrupted by the arrival of their (admittedly delicious) cheesecake. 

Sansa also remembered that since then, Jon had said nothing. 

“What do you want to watch first?” Jon asked when they reached his room. The laptop was sitting, booted up on the table next to the bed. Jon settled himself down on the left hand side and Sansa wanted to scream internally over these mixed messages. 

They were going to sit next to each other on Jon’s bed, huddled up so they could both see the screen, and Jon was seriously asking what she wanted to watch?!

“ _Love Actually_.” Her favourite Christmas movie was really _It’s a Wonderful Life_ , but Sansa knew she would cry during that more than she would at Love Actually. Besides, her favourite Christmas movie was one she watched with all the family and she wasn’t yet home.

“Oh. Ok.”

“Is that not on Netflix?” She’d caught surprise in his tone. 

“It is, but I know that isn’t your favourite.”

“We’ll watch that at home. On Christmas Day”, Sansa told him, touched that he seemed to know her favourite Christmas movie. How was she ever going to manage through two weeks of this?

Damn Robb. 

-

It took about five minutes or so into _Love Actually_ for Jon to realize the colossal error he had made. Sansa was cuddled up next to him on _his_ bed, sighing happily at the characters on screen. He spent most of the movie worrying how hard he’d get with her like this. She smelled of summer fruits (her shampoo, most likely) and some kind of vanilla musk. 

When the movie finished, Jon heaved a sigh of relief that he’d managed not to get hard while Sansa had cuddled into him in tears over some of the endings and set the laptop back on the side table. 

“Which story is your favourite?” he asked. 

“Jamie and Aurelia”, Sansa replied. “Even though things have very recently not worked out for him, he still believes he can be happy with – “

She had this look in her eyes and Jon didn’t overthink it. Hell, he’d admit later that he didn’t think at all. He simply leaned over and captured Sansa’s sweet, soft lips. 

Jon wasn’t sure when his brain caught up with his mouth, but when it did he realized Sansa hadn’t pushed him away – in fact, she had her fingers on the nape of his neck and then they were running through his hair. Jon moaned into Sansa’s mouth.

Before he knew it, Sansa was straddling him, grinding up against his cock, and their tongues were dancing. Fuck, he wanted her so badly. It was as if every wet dream he’d had in the last eighteen months was coming true – or soon would be, the moment he got to devour her sweet, wet cunt. 

“……get this off”, he heard Sansa murmur. He pulled back for a moment to see her pull off the emerald green sweater she’d been wearing. Her eyes were darker blue than normal, ringed with want, but Jon found his eyes drift downwards to her silky black bra. Sansa chuckled and unclasped it from the front, throwing it away somewhere, and then palmed her bare breasts. 

“Oh, fuck, sweetheart”, Jon growled out. He moved Sansa’s left hand and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling on her as if she was some sort of life force. This was _it_. This was _everything_. This was what Jon wanted _for the rest of his life_. 

Jon turned them over and kissed his way up and down Sansa’s belly, taking one nipple and then the other in his mouth and memorizing the sounds she made as he brought her pleasure. He fully intended – once he’d had a chance to have an actual conversation with Sansa – to keep bringing her pleasure for a very long time. Getting to know what made her tick, what brought out the breathiest moans, Jon was fully committed to making that happen. 

And he was very much looking forward to it. 

He could feel his cock straining against his jeans, and Jon made sure he kept his hips away from Sansa’s, lest he make a mess in them. He unbuttoned Sansa’s jeans, however, and pulled them down. Sansa helped him, shaking them off. 

“Now sweetheart, you just lie there for me”, Jon told her. He scooted down on the bed and spread Sansa’s legs, looking up at her pretty pink cheeks and swollen lips while he kissed the inside of her thighs. 

“I’m going to make you scream – in a good way”, Jon promised her. 

“You better keep that promise”, Sansa replied. 

Jon took that for a challenge, but he worked his way up and down Sansa’s thighs slowly, teasing her every time she moaned and called on him to hurry up. They had all day, and although Jon wasn’t exactly going to wait until tonight to be inside Sansa, he wanted to take his time. He wanted to make sure she understood how she was completely and utterly _it_ for him.

It may have been the caveman in him talking, but Jon wanted Sansa to forget Harry had ever existed. 

He built up to her first orgasm, surprising her with a quick lick up her slit and then back to her thighs. Jon gripped his fingers onto Sansa’s creamy arse and took in her musky scent. Gods, but this was so fucking amazing. Unable to hold himself back any further, Jon redirected his attention to her cunt. He found Sansa’s clit and felt her thighs clench around his head. 

“ _Fucking fuck, Jon_ ”, Sansa yelped. “ _Nungh, that’s so fucking good_.”

He kept going, sucking and licking on her as if Sansa were his final feast and Jon a condemned man. Every moan, every contraction of her thighs, every sigh and squeal, Jon committed to memory. The louder Sansa was, the more Jon repeated what had led to it. 

After Sansa had fallen over the edge for the second time and he was lapping up her juices, thighs pulsing, Jon pulled back and quickly rid himself of the clothing that he’d stupidly bothered to put on that morning. Why did his clothes have to be so damned complicated? Jon was _definitely_ now prioritizing how quickly clothes could be removed when buying anything new. 

_Fuck_.

How could he be _so fucking stupid?_

“Shit, I don’t have a fucking condom”, he growled, pacing up and down the side of the bed. He could hardly go down to the dining room and use the machine in the bathroom off to the side. 

“I’m on birth control and I trust you”, Sansa told him. “Please, Jon, I need you inside me _now_.” 

“You’re sure?” Jon rasped. He needed to be inside her, but he wasn’t an animal. Jon would never force Sansa – or any other woman – to do anything they weren’t comfortable with. 

“I’m sure.” Sansa sat up and reached out her hand, grabbing his. “I’m sure, Jon.”

He bent down and kissed her, manoeuvring his way onto the bed next to her. 

“You’re so _beautiful_ , you know that? So _amazing_. So _everything_ , sweetheart.”

When he finally sunk into her, Sansa moaned his name loudly. Fuck, but it was so amazing to feel her surround his cock. Jon flipped them over so Sansa could ride him, groaning when her nails raked from his chest to his stomach. 

“ _More_ ”, he murmured as Sansa moved her hips in motion with his. It had been so long for him – since before Robb’s wedding – that Jon wasn’t sure how long he would last. He moved his hand in between himself and Sansa, groping around for her clit. Jon wanted them both to fall over this particular cliff together. 

“ _Fuck, Jon_ ……Yes. _Right there_. Fuck, _right there_.”

Sansa began palming her breasts again and Jon could feel her pulsing around him. She was close. So, so close. And so was Jon. 

“Sansa!” he screamed as he felt himself spill inside her. Sansa fell onto his chest and he kissed the top of her head. His arms enveloped her and Jon found himself murmuring her name again and again into her hair. 

Jon wanted to stay like this for the rest of the day, Sansa in his arms and his cock inside her. 

Hell, Jon wanted to stay like this for the _rest of his life_. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so, so long”, he admitted. Sansa looked up at him and nodded. 

“Me too. I have to say, I’m a little mad at myself. We could’ve being doing that for the last eighteen months.”

“I think we’re both a little to blame”, Jon chuckled. It didn’t really matter. They had crossed the line now and it seemed like neither of them wanted to go back to the other side. 

And they were snowed in all day……

-

Robb Stark looked at the sofa opposite, where his sister, Sansa, was cuddled up next to his best friend, Jon. He wondered briefly if they’d thought even for a moment of not telling everyone that they were now together. Robb doubted it. The two of them were nauseatingly in each other’s personal space _all the time_ and had been since they arrived. One look at Jon and Sansa was enough to make it clear they were together.

Robb only had to put up with this for another ten days. Then, Jon and Sansa would return to King’s Landing and by the time they moved home in the summer, they’d be past the annoying honeymoon phase. 

It seemed that his plan had worked. 

He had been busy in the build up to his wedding, but he had seen the two of them – as had Jeyne and everyone else. The little touches on Jon’s arm, the hand on the small of Sansa’s back. It seemed almost inevitable they’d get together at the wedding until his sister-in-law opened her mouth about Harry Hardyng. 

The moment Sansa had called him with news of her split with Harry, Robb had started work on this plan. Jon and Sansa were two of the most important people in the world to him and Robb wanted them to be happy. Whether she did so consciously or not, Sansa invariably asked after Jon whenever she called him. And Robb knew that Jon hadn’t put any effort into meeting anyone since his wedding. 

All they needed was a little nudge in the right direction. 

“So, things worked out well enough”, his co-conspirator whispered in his ear. 

“They did.” Robb lay a hand on his wife’s thigh. “We’ll ask them tomorrow, after we’ve told everyone else.”

Sansa and Jon’s relationship may be shiny and new, but it wouldn’t be the big takeaway from the Stark family Christmas. Not when Jeyne produced the sonogram from their twelve week appointment. 


End file.
